Symptomatic
Posted: 23 Jul 2012, 09:55
Symptomatic
Not born with it. Eclipse swallows
pushing out great grandmothers
and babies, so that death and life
daisy chain like phosphorescent
super naturals and traffic whiz a whiz
around her birth bed ; grandmother's toes
draw circles in the air to shoo away
haloed mongooses.
Tic-toc. The tongue moves within her cheek.
Things sway, things move, things fall.
She puts in and pulls out her thumb.
Predictions blare like radio messages.
Her hair would singe with solar rays.
She held in closed fists a melange of demigods,
inside pinafore pockets.
Her pranks like the whorls of a flower.
Derailed trams; snapped fish-plates off railway tracks;
lifted the veils from nuns faces like
how a gale opens umbrellas; in fact the missiles
that Kuttichathan shot, hit their mansion;
the mud, rubble, gravel. Girl unobtainable,
demure like Dhamayanthi... eyes downcast
followed whosoever came,
could shame Ravi Varma's art.
Outside Mahajan High School in a nightie,
she walked shoulder to shoulder with the Yakshies
leading her with a tray of
tender coconut flowers. She was used
to the acoustics of weird spirits...
the hooting of nights owls,
howling dogs like the hum of some inner Walkman.
As if dead ancestors with unfinished business
prodded her into action.
Strange games on smooth boards.
Coins moving at rash speed, polygons of alphabets
their osmosis of blood made her a lieutenant
very early in life: she became their agent.
Remembering this printout; long list :
Mother Rose, Mother Mary
Hallowed be thy name,
Thy kingdom come,
kneel, sprinkle holy water, make the sign of the Cross.
That she would strain tea in bra cups
and get away with it.
A yogi like Suddhanada Bharathi
could have made a wish
and spliced the chords to her brain
so that all her babies became blue with muffled cries.
That sage men could falter on banana peels
of desire by beauty that could out beat the Apsaras.
Because she played Nala her feet pivoted
on firm ground. If it had been the Devas
she could have really done a float.
Queen of Queen Mary's College. Hair beauty of‘49.
A premarital abortion carried her madness
full score. Cooked rice would like worms;
father's face distorted like a demon.
She was Samson, slender but Narasimhan.
After which it was a sequence of Durga temples.
Hard headed priests with soft bellied navels
danced carrying flaming sesame torches.
Incantations jostled Durga’s thirty three names.
Nails bit into Neem trees pinpointing evil veins.
Witch priests from Kerala with obese wives
tried their bit, laid back and waited.
Edited.Tidied
Symptoms Of Madness
Not born with it. Eclipse swallows
pushing out great grandmothers
and babies, so that death and life
daisy chain like phosphorescent
super naturals and traffic whiz a whiz
around her birth bed - grandmother's
toe draws air circles to shoo away
haloed mongooses.
Tic-toc.The tongue moves within cheek.
Things sway, things move, things fall
She puts in and pulls out her thumb
predictions blare like radio messages.
Her hair would singe with solar rays.
She held in closed fists a mélange
of demigods, inside pinafore pockets.
Her pranks like whorls of a flower.
Derailed trams; snapped fish-plates
off railway tracks; lifted the veil off nuns
like a gale an umbrella; in fact the missiles
that Kuttichathan shot hit 20-B - the mud
rubble, gravel-girl unobtainable. Demure
like Dhamayanthi - eyes downcast followed
whomsoever came where so ever moved;
could shame Ravi Varma's art.
Outside Mahajan High School in a nightie,
did she walk shoulder to shoulder with
Yakshies leading her with a tray of
tender coconut flowers? She was used
to the acoustics of weird spirits - hooting of
nights owls, howling dogs like the hum
of some inner Walkman. As if dead ancestors
with unfinished business prodded her to action.
Strange games on smooth boards. Coin
moving at rash speed, polygons of alphabets
their osmosis of blood made her
a lieutenant very early in life: she
became their agent. Remembering this
printout. Long list. Mother Rose, Mother Mary
Hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, kneel,
sprinkle holy water, make the sign of the Cross.
That she could filter tea in bra cups
and get away with it. A yogi like Suddhanada
Bharathi could have made a wish and spliced
the chords to her brain so that all her
babies became blue with muffled cries. That
sage men could falter on banana peels
of desire by beauty that could out beat
the Apsaras.
Because she played Nala her feet pivoted
on firm ground. If it had been the Devas
she could have really done a float.
Queen of Queen Mary's College.Hair beauty of‘49.
A premarital abortion carried her madness
full score. Cooked rice could crawl like worms;
father's face distorted to a demon.
She was Samson, slender but Narasimhan.
After which it was a sequence of Durga
temples. Hard headed priests with soft
bellied navels danced about carrying
flaming torches with sesame. Incantations
jostled the thirty three names. Nails bit
into Neem trees pinpointing evil veins.
Witch doctors from Kerala with obese wives
tried their bit, laid back and waited.
Post subject: Re: Symptoms Of Madness
Posted: 30 Jul 2012, 15:27
Symptoms Of Madness
Not born with it. Eclipse swallows
and pushes out great grandmothers
and babies, so that death and life
daisy chain like phosphorescent
super naturals and traffic whiz-a-whizzes
around her birth bed - grandmother's
toe draws air circles to shoo away
three haloed mongooses.
Dick dock. The tongue moves in cheek.
Things sway, things move, things fall
she puts in and pulls out her thumb
predictions blare like radio messages;
her hair would singe with solar rays.
She held in closed fists a melange
of demigods, inside pinafore pockets.
Her pranks like whorls of a flower.
Derailed trams; snapped fish-plates
off railway tracks; lifted the veil off nuns
like a gale an umbrella; in fact the missiles
that Kuttichathan shot hit 20-B,Boag Road;
the mud, rubble, gravel- girl unobtainable.
Demure like Dhamayanthi-eyes downcast
followed whomsoever came where so ever
moved; could shame Ravi Varma's art.
Outside Mahajan High School in a nightie,
did she walk shoulder to shoulder with
Yakshies leading her with a tray of
tender coconut flowers? She was used
to the acoustics of weird spirits- hooting of
nights owls, howling dogs like the hum
of some inner walkman. As if dead ancestors
with unfinished business prodded her to action.
Strange games on smooth boards. Coin
moving at rash speed, polygons of alphabets
their osmosis of blood made her
lieutenant very early in life: she
became their agent. Remembering this
printout. Long list. Mother Rose, Mother Mary
Hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, kneel,
sprinkle holy water, make the sign of the Cross.
That she could filter tea in cups of bras
and get away with it . A yogi like Suddhanada
Bharathi could have made a wish and spliced
the chords to her brain so that all her
babies became blue with muffled cries. That
sage men could falter on banana peels
of desire by beauty that could out beat
the Apsaras.
Because she played Nala the feet pivoted
on firm ground. If it had been the Devas
she could have really done a float.
Queen of Queen Mary's. Hair beauty' 49 50.
a premarital abortion carried her madness
full score. Cooked rice would crawl like worms;
father's face distorted to a demon.
She was Samson, slender but Narasimhan.
After which it was a sequence of Durga
temples. Hard headed priests with soft
bellied navels danced about carrying
flaming torches with sesame. Incantations
jostled the thirty three names. Nails bit
into neem trees pinpointing evil veins;
witch men from Kerala with obese wives
tried their bit, laid back and waited.
Footnote
Eclipse-the great Solar Eclipse of 1955
Kuttichatan--an evil spirit(can be googled)
Dhamayanthi-A princess married to Nala
Nala--He was a deva,so his feet could not touch the ground
Yakshies--spirits of the forest
Ravi Varma's art(can be googled)--Ravi Varma's paintings in the Trivandrum Art Gallery--The speciality about this painting(Hansa Dhamayanthi) is that the eyes seem to follow us everywhere when one walks around.
Narasimhan-Lord Visnu assumes this ferocious avatar to kill an atheist Hiranyakashipu
Not born with it. Eclipse swallows
pushing out great grandmothers
and babies, so that death and life
daisy chain like phosphorescent
super naturals and traffic whiz a whiz
around her birth bed ; grandmother's toes
draw circles in the air to shoo away
haloed mongooses.
Tic-toc. The tongue moves within her cheek.
Things sway, things move, things fall.
She puts in and pulls out her thumb.
Predictions blare like radio messages.
Her hair would singe with solar rays.
She held in closed fists a melange of demigods,
inside pinafore pockets.
Her pranks like the whorls of a flower.
Derailed trams; snapped fish-plates off railway tracks;
lifted the veils from nuns faces like
how a gale opens umbrellas; in fact the missiles
that Kuttichathan shot, hit their mansion;
the mud, rubble, gravel. Girl unobtainable,
demure like Dhamayanthi... eyes downcast
followed whosoever came,
could shame Ravi Varma's art.
Outside Mahajan High School in a nightie,
she walked shoulder to shoulder with the Yakshies
leading her with a tray of
tender coconut flowers. She was used
to the acoustics of weird spirits...
the hooting of nights owls,
howling dogs like the hum of some inner Walkman.
As if dead ancestors with unfinished business
prodded her into action.
Strange games on smooth boards.
Coins moving at rash speed, polygons of alphabets
their osmosis of blood made her a lieutenant
very early in life: she became their agent.
Remembering this printout; long list :
Mother Rose, Mother Mary
Hallowed be thy name,
Thy kingdom come,
kneel, sprinkle holy water, make the sign of the Cross.
That she would strain tea in bra cups
and get away with it.
A yogi like Suddhanada Bharathi
could have made a wish
and spliced the chords to her brain
so that all her babies became blue with muffled cries.
That sage men could falter on banana peels
of desire by beauty that could out beat the Apsaras.
Because she played Nala her feet pivoted
on firm ground. If it had been the Devas
she could have really done a float.
Queen of Queen Mary's College. Hair beauty of‘49.
A premarital abortion carried her madness
full score. Cooked rice would like worms;
father's face distorted like a demon.
She was Samson, slender but Narasimhan.
After which it was a sequence of Durga temples.
Hard headed priests with soft bellied navels
danced carrying flaming sesame torches.
Incantations jostled Durga’s thirty three names.
Nails bit into Neem trees pinpointing evil veins.
Witch priests from Kerala with obese wives
tried their bit, laid back and waited.
Edited.Tidied
Symptoms Of Madness
Not born with it. Eclipse swallows
pushing out great grandmothers
and babies, so that death and life
daisy chain like phosphorescent
super naturals and traffic whiz a whiz
around her birth bed - grandmother's
toe draws air circles to shoo away
haloed mongooses.
Tic-toc.The tongue moves within cheek.
Things sway, things move, things fall
She puts in and pulls out her thumb
predictions blare like radio messages.
Her hair would singe with solar rays.
She held in closed fists a mélange
of demigods, inside pinafore pockets.
Her pranks like whorls of a flower.
Derailed trams; snapped fish-plates
off railway tracks; lifted the veil off nuns
like a gale an umbrella; in fact the missiles
that Kuttichathan shot hit 20-B - the mud
rubble, gravel-girl unobtainable. Demure
like Dhamayanthi - eyes downcast followed
whomsoever came where so ever moved;
could shame Ravi Varma's art.
Outside Mahajan High School in a nightie,
did she walk shoulder to shoulder with
Yakshies leading her with a tray of
tender coconut flowers? She was used
to the acoustics of weird spirits - hooting of
nights owls, howling dogs like the hum
of some inner Walkman. As if dead ancestors
with unfinished business prodded her to action.
Strange games on smooth boards. Coin
moving at rash speed, polygons of alphabets
their osmosis of blood made her
a lieutenant very early in life: she
became their agent. Remembering this
printout. Long list. Mother Rose, Mother Mary
Hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, kneel,
sprinkle holy water, make the sign of the Cross.
That she could filter tea in bra cups
and get away with it. A yogi like Suddhanada
Bharathi could have made a wish and spliced
the chords to her brain so that all her
babies became blue with muffled cries. That
sage men could falter on banana peels
of desire by beauty that could out beat
the Apsaras.
Because she played Nala her feet pivoted
on firm ground. If it had been the Devas
she could have really done a float.
Queen of Queen Mary's College.Hair beauty of‘49.
A premarital abortion carried her madness
full score. Cooked rice could crawl like worms;
father's face distorted to a demon.
She was Samson, slender but Narasimhan.
After which it was a sequence of Durga
temples. Hard headed priests with soft
bellied navels danced about carrying
flaming torches with sesame. Incantations
jostled the thirty three names. Nails bit
into Neem trees pinpointing evil veins.
Witch doctors from Kerala with obese wives
tried their bit, laid back and waited.
Post subject: Re: Symptoms Of Madness
Posted: 30 Jul 2012, 15:27
Symptoms Of Madness
Not born with it. Eclipse swallows
and pushes out great grandmothers
and babies, so that death and life
daisy chain like phosphorescent
super naturals and traffic whiz-a-whizzes
around her birth bed - grandmother's
toe draws air circles to shoo away
three haloed mongooses.
Dick dock. The tongue moves in cheek.
Things sway, things move, things fall
she puts in and pulls out her thumb
predictions blare like radio messages;
her hair would singe with solar rays.
She held in closed fists a melange
of demigods, inside pinafore pockets.
Her pranks like whorls of a flower.
Derailed trams; snapped fish-plates
off railway tracks; lifted the veil off nuns
like a gale an umbrella; in fact the missiles
that Kuttichathan shot hit 20-B,Boag Road;
the mud, rubble, gravel- girl unobtainable.
Demure like Dhamayanthi-eyes downcast
followed whomsoever came where so ever
moved; could shame Ravi Varma's art.
Outside Mahajan High School in a nightie,
did she walk shoulder to shoulder with
Yakshies leading her with a tray of
tender coconut flowers? She was used
to the acoustics of weird spirits- hooting of
nights owls, howling dogs like the hum
of some inner walkman. As if dead ancestors
with unfinished business prodded her to action.
Strange games on smooth boards. Coin
moving at rash speed, polygons of alphabets
their osmosis of blood made her
lieutenant very early in life: she
became their agent. Remembering this
printout. Long list. Mother Rose, Mother Mary
Hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, kneel,
sprinkle holy water, make the sign of the Cross.
That she could filter tea in cups of bras
and get away with it . A yogi like Suddhanada
Bharathi could have made a wish and spliced
the chords to her brain so that all her
babies became blue with muffled cries. That
sage men could falter on banana peels
of desire by beauty that could out beat
the Apsaras.
Because she played Nala the feet pivoted
on firm ground. If it had been the Devas
she could have really done a float.
Queen of Queen Mary's. Hair beauty' 49 50.
a premarital abortion carried her madness
full score. Cooked rice would crawl like worms;
father's face distorted to a demon.
She was Samson, slender but Narasimhan.
After which it was a sequence of Durga
temples. Hard headed priests with soft
bellied navels danced about carrying
flaming torches with sesame. Incantations
jostled the thirty three names. Nails bit
into neem trees pinpointing evil veins;
witch men from Kerala with obese wives
tried their bit, laid back and waited.
Footnote
Eclipse-the great Solar Eclipse of 1955
Kuttichatan--an evil spirit(can be googled)
Dhamayanthi-A princess married to Nala
Nala--He was a deva,so his feet could not touch the ground
Yakshies--spirits of the forest
Ravi Varma's art(can be googled)--Ravi Varma's paintings in the Trivandrum Art Gallery--The speciality about this painting(Hansa Dhamayanthi) is that the eyes seem to follow us everywhere when one walks around.
Narasimhan-Lord Visnu assumes this ferocious avatar to kill an atheist Hiranyakashipu